


Seeds of Resolution, and a lot of shit that shouldn't happen.

by HeckBerries (Clockwork85)



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Abusive Relationships, Anton and Piero are uh... homo, But corvo forgives him too, Campbell improves as a person, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort/Angst, Corvo is a friend, Corvo saves everyone, Daud isn't really around much, Emily is pretty smart, Empress Emily Kaldwin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Forgiveness, Hate Sex, Hiram is having a baby, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Low Chaos Corvo Attano, M/M, Magic, Men Crying, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Multi, Plague, Plague Recovery, Redemption, Secret Relationship, Sick Character, Some Humor, Stuffing, Things aren't as dark, Treavor is really sorry, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violent Sex, Vomiting, Witchcraft, blatant kink content, god damn witches and outsider magic how did this happen to him, he also sucks at hiding it, he didn't plan this and he doesn't like it, hidden pregnancy, oneshots, sorry but everyone gets to be okay, steven universe level compassion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork85/pseuds/HeckBerries
Summary: A collection of overall illogical and strange "happier ending" AU oneshots in a world where Corvo might be a bit too compassionate and forgiving. Humor here, violent sadness there.Low chaos, Havelock is the only one who gets his karma. Not as dark, everyone gets a happy ending. Corvo is a cuddle bug who shares his love with everyone, Lawful good with a small hint of chaotic. Lots of tears, lots of insanity. Various porn and kink content, also, Mpreg. Why? Because surely someone out there is looking for the same thing.Mix of nsfw and sfw oneshots, rating will be indicated in titles.





	1. Down goes the Empress (Sfw)

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning. How it all began. How we got here. A short and sweet little beginning, because writing a bunch of oneshots without a starting point seems kind of... hard to work with.

That was not one of the ladies who belonged here. That was not one of them. Stupid, stupid brainless drunken idiot. He would have her head, no, her entire body dismembered for this. Go to the golden cat! Go and relax! What harm could it do? This, obviously! This!

"Is there anything else I can get for you, Royal Spymaster? The city watch will be here soon, all exits are closed. Here- some water." A working lady hovered around him, gently offering a glass of cooled water, taking it with shaky hands. He exhaled hoarsely,

reluctantly taking a sip, the cool liquid a welcoming contrast from the heat of the steam room he was pulled out of. Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. Campbell was going to be pissed, if he wasn’t already. He brought the spymaster here to relax, not for him to be attacked.

“Yes. Fetch me my clothing, I have had enough of this place.” He ordered, putting down the water and standing up carefully. He did not want to be in this robe any longer. The woman nodded with a bow and hurried off to collect his uniform. He rubbed his temple with a stressed groan of annoyance. That whore was far too eager to service him, too gentle and subservient, practically urging him into the room.

Then, she changed, something changed, his memory was fogged but when he came to, he felt sore all over and something that he couldn’t describe felt off. He did not enjoy feeling off, everything had to be just right. Campbell had a prostitute on his arm when he came down the stairs, evidently he had no intention to lose her company. He was here to ram himself into whores and have a good time. Hiram was pleased that when Campbell saw his state, he had enough brains to push the woman away and actually come to talk to him and check on him. They did have something special, right? Not that anyone would know that ever.

Then, the Empress died. No, was murdered by Corvo. Everything went well despite the early arrival of the Lord Protector, no, it went better than good, everyone followed orders and did what they were told. It was perfect, though Emily could have been less difficult. Hiram Burrows found himself elevated to Lord Regent within days, the power in his hands would allow him to fix everything, to weave dunwall to an ideal state. No, all of Gristol.

Even so, something pulled at him. Not emotionally, not mentally, something in fact to his distress, he could not recognize. A strange anxiety not present in this realm as though it pulled at him from the void or beyond. A shaking sickness that he worked to ignore yet desperately wanted to make present to his trusted allies. He created reasons for it, reasons that to him, made sense for a moment before being contradicted by another concept. Corvo.

No matter how violently they tortured him, no matter how much they forced he would refuse to sign a confession. Burrows stared into his eyes when he was conscious, terrified by the lack of rage, the lack of agony. He saw something else, something different, something... strange. Pity. A hollow and exhausted pity. It unnerved him greatly considering the sins they had committed to confine him into these chains.

As Corvo changed, as his skin wore down and his hair grew out to an unkept vile sickly tangled mop, Hiram changed too. He desperately tried to hide it as his tailors slowly loosened his seams, but he knew. He knew Corvo knew too. Before any of his allies noticed or dared think to. He shivered as Corvo's execution drew near, growing weary of those dead, sympathetic eyes that stared him down. What if he somehow found a way out? He would avenge her. What if he broke his silence? Managed to convince others of the truth? He hadn't done much talking at all, only screamed out in pain when the hot irons lashed his skin. Corvo never spoke except on the final day before his execution after Campbell had left.

"Hiram..." His voice was quiet, raspy and subdued. His head that spent all of it's time down had managed to gathered enough energy to look up. The Regent flinched, in fear? No-no, not fear. He was behind the bars, not in control.

"Hiram...listen..." Against his judgement, his legs moved him back towards the bars and he stared down the pathetic disgrace of a man, their eyes locking. He said nothing, he waited. If Corvo wasn't going to say anything more, he was going to leave. He-He didn't have time for this. This trick, deception, he knew that the protector was a smart man. 

"You can... still make this right. You should." Burrows fists tightened and his face scrunched up to a baffled sort of anger that he was capable of repressing, anger that refused to burrow back down this time. He still said nothing. Words didn't work.

"I know what's going on. I can forgive you. I can make this..." The Regent fled before he could finish speaking. He would not hear another word. It's not that he was against hearing him grovel, but he knew that he couldn't take in another word.

A meal from a friend was delivered to his cell an hour later. A short time later, Hiram was pacing back and forth in a terrified daze.


	2. Forced Confession (NSFW Burrows/Campbell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shortly before Corvo breaks free, the High Overseer reaches the end of his rope with the avoidance from his Lord Regent. He forced the truth out and decides that it is unacceptable. CW: rape, Physical violence, toxic relationships and overall not a good time.

“I think it’s about time stop pretending that that gut of yours isn’t something to be concerned about. Campbell broke the silence and looked to his lover, Hiram sliding a hand down his blatantly bloated middle.   
“It’s... nothing to worry about. Gas. That’s it.” Campbell knew better though, the Regent’s expression said nothing of that manner. He had clearly gotten his clothing adjusted to better fit his shape, Campbell was no idiot.

“Gas my ass. I might believe that if i was several dozen glasses of wine in, but I’m only on my second.” Campbell scoffed, concern barely concealed by his building anger. Hiram pursed his lips, shaking his head as to dent his claims. He couldn’t know. He knew that it would be figured out eventually, but not yet. A shawl or cloak might help, though...

“It’s not your concern. I am not in any danger, and you have your own set of tasks to worry about. Don’t you have a general to poison next week?” He sat up, his waistline clearly creating a level of difficulty in the task. Campbell was watching closely this time. Frustration pooled inside him. He was lying. He was lying the week before and he was lying once more. They would caress and spoon one another, plant kisses and fondle one another sloppily after enough drinking, but that was all there was these days. Burrows didn’t even undress in the slightest manner this time.

“Yes, that will obviously be done, but that is next week. Now I’ve had enough of your avoidance, show me.” Campbell brought himself up next, pulling the covers back and cornering the lord regent on his own king-sized bed.  
“You haven’t undressed, let alone let me make love to you in months! But no, it must be nothing, according to you.”

Hiram inhaled sharply as he was forcefully pinned against the mattress and unable to shake free. Fear, distress, a lack of foresight. Campbell could overpower him several times over without a doubt. He had told his guards to leave them be. He- he was trapped.

“I have had enough of this. Enough of these games.” He snapped, well aware that he had far crossed the line. “Show me!” Hiram struggled for a good half-minute before he felt his belt shift out of place, more than enough to make his mind plead to get it off or fix it. God damn his need for perfection, he had to.

The look he gave the man atop of him could kill, it would have if it was capable of. His lover, his accomplice, such an immense betrayal. He reached below his waist and fumbled to release his belt, a wave of disgust and helplessness pooling in his gut when Campbell proceeded to pull up his top, revealing his swollen midsection.

Rounded, wrong, far too familiar to the shape and feel of a prostitute put out of business. Like the one he fucked a week before, her last few days before she left for good. He wouldn't have been fucking a broad if Hiram had just stopped being like this.

“Fucking lord- this is-“  
“Pregnant, Campbell, I’ve fallen pregnant!” He stammered, shoving the larger man’s hand away from his exposed flesh and finding enough strength to push him off in the moment of shock he had bought. He managed to get to his feet before Campbell did. He would feel that exertion tomorrow.

There was a long moment of silence before the barrage of questions followed. Accusations, demands and finally, an explanation. No black magic, no witchcraft, just a single woman who was not quite right. By the end, Hiram found himself on the foot of his bed sitting atop Campbell’s thighs, hand gripped atop his now stress-nauseated stomach. The high overseer felt something move against his digits, yet he had decided not to mention it. He already knew it was true.

They violently made love. This was different, not like the love they would make after the empress first died and Burrows took the throne. Their movements were sloppy, violent, Campbell snarled the Regent’s first name, and the Regent gripped the sheets in a state of overwhelmed stimulation. Campbell left bruises and grabbed him hard here and there. He cursed profanities and harsh slurs. He left a mark too high up, he wouldn’t yield. No, this was not making love. This was one last fuck. It hurt him, Campbell was going far too rough and Hiram gave up his efforts to make him stop.

At last, they untangled from one another, Campbell pushing him away in disgust. They tensely spoke for half an hour more as Hiram struggled to ensure each and every seam of his clothing was back in place as he redressed. By the end of what could be the most charged conversation of their time, their relationship had been utterly and expectedly mauled and Campbell could not change his mind about this being the work of witchcraft, against the Regent’s will or not. Men had gotten pregnant before through the years through similar circumstance, but that did not make it any less vile in the eyes of the overseer. It was despicable.

Burrows threw up as soon as Campbell calmly left, hyperventilating and shaking against the bathroom floor for a good half hour before managing to summon a doctor to help him. His dear lady Boyle had gradually drifted away once his more sculpted form began to leave, but this. This hurt more. He could not fathom why, but it was agonizing. He was the one in control, he had to be. But he was not. Was he ever? Perhaps all of his control faded the moment he became aware of the bastard put inside of him. He wanted it gone, but he feared what might happen to him if he tried.

He was wearing a cloak everywhere starting as soon as the sun had risen. No, it wasn’t gas. It was a mixture of stress-related bloating and quite a bit of gas. Or- or it was weight gain that he wasn’t proud of. Something, anything to excuse it. A medical condition that is being treated? That’s all his peers would ever know. No, not even that. It was none of their business and he would have them scalped if they stepped over the line. Perhaps the doctors knew too much as well. They were catching on, so many probably already suspected something. His body, damn his body and curse.

He barely slept at all that night, and when he awoke early, he knew keeping himself in order was going to become more and more difficult. He went into a daze when a week or so later (he could no longer remember) he learned that Campbell had been branded. So soon after Corvo broke free. Could his torment be any worse? He- he couldn't afford to slip into disorder any further.

Except he would.


End file.
